


Contact Points.

by Alcalexandria



Category: Dark Fate - Fandom, Terminator (Movies), Terminator - All Media Types, Terminator: Dark Fate
Genre: Body Chocolate, Edging, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Future War, Humour, Pick n' mix, Slice of Life, Smut, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcalexandria/pseuds/Alcalexandria
Summary: A collection of one-shot vignettes about Dani or Grace, or Dani and Grace, Present and Future.Please note the bump in content age rating for the later ones.
Relationships: Grace Harper/Dani Ramos
Comments: 17
Kudos: 61





	1. i. Onlooker.

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to start collecting up scraps of stuff I've thrown in askboxes over Tumblr over the last while, in case they're of interest to anybody here. I'll be polishing them up a little. I may elaborate on some in future stories, but in case I don't, here they are.
> 
> These will be mostly unconnected, self contained little vignettes, so there mostly won't really be any single theme, time or continuity, but I hope they're of some value. It's probably easiest to view as "Entire Work".
> 
> Shout out to Konako, Lady-Tortilla-Chip and tornsurvivors on Tumblr for very graciously accommodating.
> 
> Any feedback is hugely appreciated, it makes it a million times more rewarding to post something.
> 
> "Union" is an offshoot of this you can read at https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793668

"I don't think we should do this anymore Harper," Reid says, pulling on crumpled scrubs.

Grace blinks.

"Did you... Did I do something wrong?"

Reid sighs.

"No. Not... It's not something you did. It's been fun. I just... That's all it's gonna be."

Grace frowns.

"I thought that's what you wanted?"

Reid sighs and looks her over.

"Me too."

She leaves Grace to get herself dressed and heads for the mess for a drink.

She'd lied - of course it was something Grace did. She talked in her sleep.

She didn't talk about Reid.


	2. ii. Onlooker.

Grace watches her go.

Should she follow? Out of politeness or something?

She'd been mostly doing this out of politeness in the first place, but seems that was wrong too.

Grace respected Reid; when she'd made it clear how much she wanted her, she figured... what was the harm? And Reid had set terms that suited them both, or so Grace had thought. Apparently not.

She grabs some clothes to at least go through the motions. She even gets as far as the corridor when she hears the echo of Dani's voice from a few blocs over, and turns on heel to follow it.


	3. iii. Bystander.

"Everything looks good, Commander. Get more sleep, but otherwise, a clean bill of health."

The Commander closed her last button.

"Thank you Doctor, I will work on that. I appreciate you seeing me without notice."

Reid scoffed graciously.

"Oh no, it's an honor to meet you properly."

The Commander laughed. Reid was impressed - she must hear stuff like that all day, and she still managed to look genuinely humble.

"- She... talks about you a lot."

The Commander's smile faltered for only a moment. Reid was impressed again at how little else she gave away.

"- Harper. Grace. She talks about you."

She felt Ramos pause and survey her head to foot. 

"- I wondered what you were like in person, that she's so devoted to you."

"I'd heard you were an item," Ramos replied evenly.

Reid shook her head.

"No. We weren't much. We're nothing at all now."

Ramos watched her carefully.

Reid had expected her to be angry, but she wasn't. She seemed...patient. More patient than Reid's impulsive bullshit probably deserved.

"Why are you telling me this, Doctor?" she asked.

"I think we both know why I think you should know it," she said, grateful her nerve held.

Ramos leaned back, and studied her thoughtfully.

"I’m not sure The Commander is supposed to know anything about anyone's private life," she said, with the glimpse of a smile that Reid saw come & go like a flash. But they both understood what they were talking about.

"I've known Captain Harper a very long time, Doctor. I'd like her to find someone good who cares for her, and to be happy. I’m told your colleagues speak very highly of you, I am very sincerely sorry it didn't work out."

Reid nodded graciously.

"Me too. But… I think she only sees one person. And I don’t think she’s ever going to find anything they can't show her."

Commander Ramos fixed Reid in a soft, thoughtful gaze, and gave a deep sigh.

"You've more guts than half my soldiers Doctor, are you sure you're in the right line of work?"

Reid gave a thin smile, and found her voice again somewhere.

"Your goddamn soldiers are work enough for me Commander, thank you," she managed.

Dani laughed.

"They are that, alright. They are that. Thank you for the consultation Doctor Reid. I will take everything you’ve said under advisement. I’m glad to see the good things I’ve heard about you were all true.”

She left the exam room and was surrounded immediately by a wall of her personal guards.

Reid felt her shoulders slack at last. She wondered when, _exactly_ , Commander Ramos might have taken an interest in what _anyone_ had to say about her, and a single bead of sweat rolled down her spine.


	4. x. Stopover.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I might come back to the Onlooker/Bystander "continuity" at some point in future, but for now the next few chapters will be independent one shots. Hope that's not too confusing.

Dani wakes up to a pleasant weight on her middle.

She'd only intended to sit down on the motel bed, just for a moment, just to catch her breath. She must have dozed off. More to her surprise, she finds Grace curled around next to her, head just resting against her stomach, facing away towards their boots. She must have laid down to sleep too soon after, though Dani doubts she meant to let it get this cosy.

She's a strong, solid form even at rest, but she seems remarkably human, and remarkably fragile, just now.

Dani moves her hands carefully, like she's trying not to startle an immensely powerful animal. She brings them back down over Grace’s head and shoulders, like it’s instinct, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to feel protective of this woman; a stranger, a violent one, a super soldier from another world.

Grace murmurs and stirs a little, and for a second Dani’s afraid she’s waking up; instead, she settles in with more conviction, pushing herself further under Dani’s hands, like she’s making herself at home. Dani's first thought is that maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

She lets herself risk stroking Grace’s hair softly once, just once. Grace gives a pleased hum in her sleep. She closes her hand gently over the side of Grace’s face and relaxes, to go back to sleep too.

She has no idea what this means - they can figure that out some other time. Some other time.


	5. x. Uniform Code.

Grace lay back against Dani's chest and Dani brought her arms over her, to trace idle lines over her features with her fingertips. Awkward in a rack built for one body, but they'd perfected the art of it a long time ago.

"I need you to chew me out," Grace said conclusively, like she'd been thinking about it a while.

She felt Dani shift under her, trying to figure out if she'd misheard.

"- Some of the new boots joked about me having a thing for you."

Dani laughed softly.

"And do you? A scandal, I should blush."

"Dani, I'm serious."

Dani sighed.

"I know, I know. Are you sure?"

“Yeah, they don’t know when I can hear ‘em yet.”

Dani sighed again wearily.

“Alright. You're leading a recon patrol in two days. Do something stupid, something no danger to you, but could get someone who's dumb hurt if they did it. I’ll make a big deal about it when you get back.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, don't you dare put yourself in any real danger. Yes?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Afterwards I’m going to confine you to quarters until further notice.”

“What? That’s-”

“-so I can make it up to you properly. Sound good?"

Dani’s fingers lingered softly on her lips until she smiled.

“Sounds good.”


	6. x. HCF.

Grace gulps the water down greedily and gasps. 

“Still okay?”

“Yeah,” Grace says, the strain in her voice heartbreaking. “Yeah, it’s just hard.”

“Oh my love, I know. And you've taken so much. You’ve been incredible.”

Grace's moan breaks in despair - she’s so close just hearing that should be enough to send her over.

But it doesn't. She can’t.

Grace has writhed in this ecstatic agony for what feels like days; she understands by now that nothing can make it happen until Dani decides it will, no matter how unstoppable it feels. 

Dani sits astride her with the control pad, monitoring her closely. She’s already skilled with it – once they mapped her out, it was no effort at all to disable Grace’s ability to climax. It was no effort at all to send her here and keep her here, about as high as she can go, right on the edge of the sheer drop, without so much as a touch. She can prompt Grace’s augmented nervous system directly, letting it flood her with pleasure just as easily as it could flood her with combat chemicals or repair signals; just as easily as it has allowed her to lock Grace’s body out of her own reach.

To Grace, it feels like going insane, like she's being boiled inside out. She can feel herself right about to come, but knows she simply can’t. It just won’t happen.

She doesn’t even expect it to anymore, but that doesn’t make it any easier at all to endure it. She still shifts around constantly, as if there might yet be a way to make any of this experience easier or more comfortable. There isn't, she knows there isn't.

“It’s so hard,” she says again, hands bunching in sheets, her body still insisting it’s _just_ about to happen anyway. It is - it’s always just about to happen. It has been just about to happen for hours.

“ _Shh_ , I know. I know. Is there anything I can do?” 

Grace has to concentrate just to respond - she shakes her head blindly. There are tears in the corners of her eyes as she tries to bear another unbearable second of this, this rapturous torture they’ve crafted for her together. 

Dani cups her cheek and thumbs away a few stray drops of water. Grace pushes in against her hand, accepting this consolation gratefully.

It seems impossible this won’t be what does it. But it won’t. Dani would give her absolutely anything she wants in the world, except that.

Sweat glistens on her creased features, and she claws bluntly down the sheets like she’s trying to find a handhold. 

Another hour, Dani decides. Maybe two.


	7. x. Fairtrade.

Dani likes the contrast - the strict, unnaturally precise grip pinning her wrists to the floor, and the soft, far less exact sensation of Grace's fingertips marking her body with warm chocolate. 

Grace is taking her time. She hasn't done anything like this before - everything's so scarce where she comes from - and she's thoughtful and experimental at first. A single point becomes a line down Dani's sternum, when Grace enjoys the rise of her chest in anticipation and decides to draw it out; a fingertip traces the edge of her jaw when her head tilts helplessly back to her touch. Dani can feel Grace's intense focus on every inch of her as she goes, and how patiently she means to work her anxiously writhing canvas. She always seems so _fascinated_ by Dani's body, and she seems fascinated to have a novel way to map it; Here. Here. There.

The pattern is meandering at first, but Dani can feel - as much as she sees - Grace become gradually more calculated. Her demeanour stiffens, from that of an artist to an artisan. She thinks ahead, she starts to form plans. She lingers over slopes she likes, she seeks out softer skin where she knows Dani is especially sensitive. She highlights the curves of her body, she fills in space she knows she would particularly enjoy spending more time on.

After all, each mark is a promise: " _My mouth will have you here. Here. There. In this line down your sternum, between your breasts, over your heart. For as long as it takes to lift every trace of sweetness from your skin, until I can taste only you again, and for as long as I want after that."_

She marks a line down Dani's throat, goes back for more chocolate, and picks out the ridge of her collar bone. She selects a nipple next, and then paints it carefully again with a more generous layer; one and not the other so that the contrast will be almost too keen for her willing captive.

By the time she's nearly done, Dani's body is as molten as the chocolate, her arms tensing helplessly in her uncanny hold, heels skating uselessly off the soft rug and over floorboards as she gasps in excitement.

Grace grants herself a moment Dani can hardly spare to survey her work, just once, before she'll start its exquisite undoing.

 _Almost_ perfect, she decides.

She saves her final brushstroke for Dani's perfect lips; instead, Dani takes her two fingers into her hot mouth, to make them slowly, softly clean, and turns it into a masterpiece.


	8. i. Crypsis.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovers once carved their names in trees, back when there were trees to see.

“Anything I need to know about?” the armorer says, as he starts filling in his shift-sheet for the day.

“Nah, nothing,” answers the man at the counter - last shift’s armorer - without turning from the window. “Next?”

The next young soldier in line steps up obediently.

“Omar, R. 352099.”

Last shift's armorer scans down his clipboard.

He sighs impatiently; all the tech they'd developed in the last year alone, but he still can’t get an issue roster printed in alphabetical fucking order.

“Omar-Richard, Omar-Robert, Omar...?”

“Robert, Sir.”

“Omar... Robert. Here we go. M90 Anti-Material, three mags, ninety rounds DU, you’ll be issued supplementary as required post tasking.”

Last-Shift heads off into the racks, and duly returns with the gun. He hands the heavy rifle through the window, along with three full mags he slides over the counter.

He hands out the clipboard.

“Check chamber, sign here, thumb print next to it.”

Corporal Omar duly checks the chamber, signs for his issue, and leaves for his muster.

Last-Shift is dismayed to see the relief armorer is still only filling out his checklist. He doesn’t usually work out of this armory, so maybe it's taking longer to find everything than usual - but it's basic fucking stuff. Yes, everything looked fine when I got here. No, nobody was on fire. Yes, last shift’s paperwork looks good. No, the machines aren’t in here killing everyone. 

“Munroe, E. 718641.”

Last-Shift grudgingly runs down the roster.

“Munroe, E. M90 Anti-Material, three mags, ninety rounds DU, you’ll be issued supplementary as required after tasking."

Last-Shift duly troops off to get Munroe her rifle, and then hands it off to her along with her ammo.

“Check chamber, sign here, thumb print next to it.”

"The fuck happened that gun rack?" the relief guy says from behind him.

"Hmm?" says Last-Shift.

"Gun rack. It’s crooked as hell. Look -"

Last-Shift glances back over his shoulder, hoping Relief will look like he's hurrying the fuck up to finish handover. He’s hungry, for Christ's sake.

He does not.

"Dunno man. Next?”

“Harper, G. 731250-A.”

Last-Shift looks up when he hears the letter, and looks around for the Augment roster.

“It’s definitely crooked,” comes Relief, placing his hands on two matching dents in the shelf that he doesn't realize conform exactly to a taller-than-average, inhumanly strong woman bent forward to brace herself through an almighty orgasm. 

“Harper, G. M90 Anti-Material, six mags, hundred eighty rounds DU, you’ll be issued supplementary as required post tasking.”

Last-Shift heads into the racks to get the rifle, making a point to brush impatiently past Relief, hoping he’ll take the hint and hurry up.

“Must have been like that when I got here,” he says as he looks through the ranks of rifles, “This armory's been inactive for months, nobody’s been in or out.”

He comes back to the counter with the rifle, and has to do another run for the extra ammo and magazines. When he hands it over, his eyes roll over this soldier’s scars for a split second, and she takes the opportunity to cast an unseen glance at the damaged shelf.

Bent metal is an unlikely cue for sentiment, but it’s a pleasant memento to have in view. A secret keepsake in plain sight.

“Check chamber, sign here, thumb print next to it. Something worth smiling about Harper?”

“No Sir.”

Augments, thinks Last-Shift. They all get weird eventually.

"Next?"

"Domaille, G..."


End file.
